Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

slipped inside and closed the door gently behind him.
    He stood in the dark for a minute or so, listening for any sign of life: a television set, someone breathing or turning over in bed, a toilet flushing. Dead quiet. There was enough light from outside filtering in so he didn’t need the flashlight. First, he found the bedroom, its door wide open; no one there. He checked the living room and the kitchen: no one.
    Then he turned on the flashlight and went to work. A few clothes, not many, both male and female, in the closets. Not much in the bathroom, either. He searched for a computer, but did not find one; there was no liquor in the bar. The refrigerator held milk, orange juice, and not much else. Very unsatisfying. Had his quarry moved? He went into the bathroom, lifted the toilet seat and urinated, then flushed. It had been a long drive.
    He let himself out of the apartment, rode down to the lobby, left the building, and got into his car. He was not going to wait there all night.
    As he turned the corner, two people came out of the restaurant across the street from the building, but Vlad did not see them.
    •   •   •
    Teddy and Betsy crossed the street, entered the building, and rode up to the penthouse. “That was the best dinner Michael’s has given us yet,” Betsy said. “I’m stuffed.”
    “Not too much to be stuffed again,” Teddy said, leering a little.
    “We’ll see.”
    Teddy let them into the apartment and switched on the living room light, while Betsy went into the bedroom.
    Teddy opened the sliding door to the terrace to let in the cool night air, then he heard a shriek from the bathroom and ran toward it. Betsy was struggling to her feet, her panties around her ankles.
    “What’s wrong?” Teddy asked.
    “You left the toilet seat up again, and I fell in,” she said crossly.
    “I didn’t do that,” he protested. “At least, I don’t remember doing it.”
    “You’re the only one who lives here who lifts the seat to pee,” she said, lowering the seat and sitting down.
    “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I guess it was just automatic.”
    “You have to break yourself of that habit, Billy, there’s a woman living here now.”
    “I promise, I’ll break the habit.”
    They went to bed, but there was no sex that night.
    •   •   •
    Majorov was sill up, watching TV, when Vlad returned to the suite at the Bel-Air. “Is the work done?” he asked.
    “No. I got into the apartment, but there was no one there, just some clothes and things.”
    “Why didn’t you wait?”
    “Because I’ve been traveling all day, and I’m tired,” Vlad said, with the air of a man who didn’t want to be questioned. “I’ll call on them again tomorrow.”
    “See that you do.”
    “Yuri,” Vlad said irritably, “don’t annoy me again, otherwise you’ll have to do this job yourself. Now I am going to bed.”
    And he did, while Majorov smoldered.

Teddy got up early and shaved and showered, while Betsy slept on. He got dressed, and by that time she was showing signs of life. He leaned over and kissed her awake.
    She glanced at the clock. “Why so early?”
    “It’s my first day on a movie set,” Teddy said. “They start early. What’s your plan for the day?”
    “I’m going to take a few more things to the hangar,” she said, “and buy some better towels for the apartment there.”
    “See you later, then.” Teddy took the elevator down to the garage, got into the Speedster, and drove to the studio. Something was nagging at him, but he couldn’t bring it into his frontal lobe; it just festered, somewhere in his brain.
    •   •   •
    Vlad woke early, as usual, and planned his day. First, he would visit Mr. and Mrs. Burnett and complete his business with them, then he would drive to Universal City and take the studio tour. He had already looked it up on the Internet and reserved a ticket.
    Majorov was breakfasting in the Bel-Air’s outdoor restaurant, and Vlad ignored him as he passed. He ordered his rental car from the valet, got into it, and drove toward Sunset. It was only after he had turned onto the boulevard that he realized his error: rush hour. It took twenty minutes just to get on the freeway, which had pretty much become a parking lot.
    •   •   •
    Teddy was very impressed with what he found on the soundstage: Peter’s production designer had constructed a Century City apartment inside the huge space, and as he walked around it, he wished